


Small Mercies

by JessiRomantic, Kkpwnall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Art, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Baking, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Clothed Sex, Collaboration, Counter Sex, Digital Art, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Fucking, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Granger is So Done, NSFW Art, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Semi-Public Sex, Sexy Draco Malfoy, Sexy Times, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessiRomantic/pseuds/JessiRomantic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kkpwnall/pseuds/Kkpwnall
Summary: Draco Malfoy had been working with Hermione Granger in the small bakery that occupied the ruins of the boathouse for eight years. For the last year, they have grown closer. But the 10th year anniversary of the battle racks up the tension to a new high.Winner of Department of FanFiction'sI Was Waiting For ThisAward for their Mad Frankenstein Fest!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 197
Collections: July - September Mad Frankenstein Fest 2020





	Small Mercies

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was fun, if a bit nuts in the end. The lovely and very naughty art is by the lovely _kkpwnall_ who was a gem of a person to work with.
> 
> I would like to give my infinite love to hslades who puts up with my neuroses with such patience and _takingflight48_ without whom the smut would read like robots fucking.
> 
> The overall theme with this fest was co-workers and the prompt was _bakers_.
> 
> Thank you for the Department of Fanfic discord server for hosting this.
> 
> Without you, I would not have written a happy Dramione!

_Thank Merlin for small mercies._

The thought crossed Draco Malfoy’s mind unbidden as he looked upward.

_Because there is nothing more reliably unreliable than the weather during a British summer._

All reports, from newspapers to every Wizarding wireless station, indicated it would be a bright, sunny day. So of course, the day to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts was positively miserable. The unrelenting thunderstorms all day meant many of the planned outdoor activities were moved into the Great Hall or cancelled altogether. At least the small bakery sitting within the post-battle ruins of the boathouse had a roof. Small mercies.

Following the war, a council had been formed that oversaw the rebuilding efforts of both Hogwarts and Diagon Alley. After all but a side of the boathouse survived a blasting hex, Draco was impressed with how the school had decided to use the space.

Taking inspiration from Muggles in Budapest and Berlin, Professor McGonagall had wanted to leave the shell of the boathouse, a previously pivotal location within Hogsmead for new students and put a small business within the ruins. She thought it would be a poignant reminder of what they had lost while helping the local community recover. Similar businesses began occupying other ruins like those behind Gringotts bank, though that was a more cosmopolitan area with coffee shops, bars and restaurants. 

“Malfoy, can you pass me the milk, please?” A carton of milk sat on the counter beside his right hand. He looked at it for a moment as though surprised to see it next to the coffee machine. He grabbed the handle of the plastic bottle before looking up at his coworker.

“Here you are, Granger,” he said as he passed it.

Granger was another small mercy. They had been working in the bakery together almost as long as it had been open, and he had to admit that he was glad that she had chosen to volunteer on Saturday mornings. He was not sure that Potter would have been quite so pleasant company. This had been the community service he had chosen after serving two years of house arrest. As he had to spend a further eighteen months contributing to society through any charitable effort that did not entail a donation, he had chosen this establishment. He chose to spend his Saturday mornings at the voluntarily run bakery that raised money for war orphans. It seemed only fitting to help the cause as his father had been a contributing factor of some of those children’s circumstances. He would also never admit it, but he enjoyed cooking, baking especially, and so the opportunity to give back in such a way was something he had been happy to do.

Not that he would have been able to make any kind of significant donation had it been an option. After the war, due to Potter’s testimony, both he and his mother were spared Azkaban, unlike his father. However, most of their assets had been stripped and their reputation in tatters. Draco had spent the following years rebuilding the Malfoy family image. They sold the Manor, and he and his mother started living in a smaller property in the Cotswolds with a cottage garden for his mother to enjoy. With the money left over from the sale of the property, Draco started a consulting firm for property development. He worked with both Wizarding and Muggle clients and was beginning to become a reputable authority on negotiating between the two worlds.

When he arrived for his first shift and saw Hermione Granger he had scowled. He had not anticipated that she, the Golden Girl, would be his coworker and, by default, parole supervisor. He knew that he had not been nice to her during their time at school, not to mention what his Aunt had done to her on his drawing-room floor. She had looked him up and down with a critical gaze before shaking her head. Her long chestnut brown hair bouncing with the movement.

“A three-piece suit, Malfoy,” she had said. “ _Really_? Take off your jacket and that ridiculous waistcoat and put this on,” she said before throwing him a stained but clean apron.

“Really, Granger, trying to get me to take my clothes off already? As a gentleman, I usually wait for at least the third date for that.” He had followed her instructions, however, before rolling up his shirt sleeves and asking where he should start.

That had been eight years ago. They quickly established a comfortable routine. Every Saturday morning, he would arrive in a shirt, tie and suit trousers. Granger would have arrived before him and made a start on the dough for the breakfast rolls. She would throw him his apron which he would pull over his head before rolling up his sleeves and mixing together the batter for the blueberry muffins. They would pass the mornings in a strange kind of rhythm and they barely spoke to each other apart from when necessary. When Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan arrived at one o’clock to take over they would quietly wipe down the counters, put their aprons in the basket for the House Elves from the school to wash overnight, and go their separate ways. On the last Saturday of each month, Granger would hand Draco a report of his work and he would forward it to the Auror’s office. For the first few months, he would look over what she had written but stopped when he realised that she was thorough and fair. Once the initial eighteen months had ended, he had not left the bakery and she had not asked why. He had just turned up on the following Saturday morning and she had thrown him an apron.

Every Saturday morning, he arrived at the small bakery within the ruins of the boathouse and he forgot the troubles of the outside world by creating little pieces of edible heaven. The place was it’s own small mercy every week. Beating butter and sugar with a wooden spoon, pounding bread dough into submission with his bare hands, and whisking eggs into light froth was all cathartic for him. Alongside Granger, the pair worked in a wordless tandem that was a welcome calm for him. Often, she could sense when a particularly difficult week had gone by.

“I’ll take the front all shift today if you want?” she would ask on those days. He would simply nod and take to making his masterpieces.

When the plans for the anniversary had started the year before, Granger had approached him, “They’re asking for volunteers for the day, I was wondering if you would be up for it?”

The question had surprised him, but he had simply nodded. The following week she had told him that they would be working all day. Draco had furrowed his brow at this. He was surprised that she was not expected to be present during the day, being _the_ war heroine, but he supposed he did not know what the plans were. Perhaps there was something in the evening that he was not aware of. Since then she seemed to have made more of an effort to make conversation. It was as though the knowledge of spending an entire day with each other shifted their relationship. It moved from a silent yet comfortable companionship of the previous years toward something more substantial. 

The conversations started as awkward small talk. For a pair of people who had gone to school together and had spent seven years frequently in each other’s company, they knew very little about one another. They found out more about one another in the past year than the previous sixteen put together. He learned that she and Weasley had dated, on and off, for five years before finally calling it quits when Weasley wanted to start a family and she wanted a career. She had learned that as a child his mother and he used to sneak into the kitchens on a Sunday and make shortbread biscuits together. He learned that she had erased her parents’ memories to protect them from the war and it had taken two years to find and restore their memories. She learned that before the war he had been betrothed to Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass’s younger sister, as part of a plan of his father’s to further the Malfoy bloodline. He had learned that she loved her job in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures but hated the bureaucracy. She had learned that his company was well recognised in the muggle world and he was an adviser to some of the top names in property acquisition.

Throughout the year, in getting to know more about her, Draco had found himself looking at Granger in a different light. He noticed that he liked it when she pulled her hair back in a high ponytail while she baked. He discovered the way she hummed to herself while thinking. He regarded the pleasing slope of her neck, and roundness of her arse. He noted that she would always lay out the ingredients for whatever she was baking in the order the recipe called for. He saw that she had a small mole behind her ear. He realised that the scar that was carved into her arm at the Manor was covered by a tattoo of symbols he did not recognise. He deduced that she preferred dresses to jeans and a t-shirt and she liked patterns like florals and stripes. 

He found that they were all a similar shape, conservative without being stuffy. Her legs always looked endless in them. She was wearing one such dress for their shift on the anniversary event. It was a light cotton dress in dusky pink with small cream flowers. It had cap sleeves and a v-shaped neckline that hinted at cleavage. The skirt flared gently at the hips and came to just above the knee, showing off her delectable sun-kissed legs. Her hair was piled up in its usual high ponytail, though throughout the day wisps had fallen out from around her ears and face. Her skin glowed and her big brown eyes were framed with thick dark lashes. He did not think she knew just how wild she drove him some days.

He still thanked Merlin for small mercies, because this was likely the closest he would get to her. It was embarrassing how many times over the past year he had gone home from his Saturday morning shift, locked his door, silenced his room and wanked at the thought of taking her on the counter in the bakery. Or on one of the tables that patrons sat at when they decided to stay for coffee and a cake. Or against the wall of the small room that the staff used to store their belongings.

He groaned and adjusted himself. He could not afford to get an embarrassing boner right then.

“What was that, Malfoy?” her sweet voice cut through his dirty thoughts.

“Nothing,” he answered.

“Oh, okay,” she returned. “It’s almost time to close, shall we ice those cupcakes so we can take them up to the castle?” She turned to him with a slight frown on her face. “You are coming up for the evening celebration, right?”

He shuffled but straightened his features into indifference, “I should be getting back to mother.” He did not want to mention that he did not know, let alone get invited to, whatever event was happening in the castle that evening. 

She did not seem to notice his discomfort, however, and simply nodded in understanding, “I suppose today has a different significance for your family.”

He wished she had not said anything, because the reminder that his father was still serving his prison sentence for his part in the war was an uncomfortable one. He coughed. “Yes, well, I am happy to help with the cake decorating but after that, I must be heading home.” 

_To sit in my room, alone, thinking about how good it would feel to let that wild mane of yours free of its confines and into my hands._

He was grateful that she was not performing legilimency on him at that moment.

“Okay, shall we?” she said gesturing to the door that led to the small kitchen. He nodded and they both made their way into the back. Granger set about summoning the ingredients they needed: butter, icing sugar, a bowl, whisk, piping bag; while he arranged the cooled cupcakes on a plate and summoned the iced decorations. Like they so often did, they worked in an amiable and pleasant tandem. She whisked up the icing and piped it on top of each cupcake. He did final touches by adding stars, flowers and hearts in house colours. They were interrupted once by a brave soul who had trekked from the castle through the torrential rain for a loaf of bread. They closed the shop before boxing up the cupcakes, placing a charm over the box to prevent damage from rain that was still pounding down. Mercifully, just as they were about to leave the sun came through the window in the small kitchen. As he looked up to comment on the development, he spotted that some butter icing was smudged on the end of her nose. He instinctively reached out and wiped it off. At his touch, she looked up, startled. Lamely, he held out the icing on the tip of his finger.

“What a mess you make, Granger,” he drawled. She turned towards him fully and he was suddenly struck by how small the kitchen was. How close they were. Unexpectedly, she wrapped her small hand around his outstretched one. She then glanced at the finger with buttercream on the end before lowering her lips. She looked at him, brown eyes dark, and wrapped her full pink lips around the tip of his finger, sucking the icing from it. Her mouth was warm and inviting, keeping a firm hold on his digit.

It had to be the most erotic thing that Draco had ever seen. Her eyes fluttered shut and then she did the cruellest thing she had ever done. She moaned. Why the _fuck_ would she do something so sexy? He could feel that the icing had long left his finger but she was still holding his hand and sucking, tongue gently massaging the underside. Did she know what she was doing? Her mouth had just shot to the most inviting place on earth. He shifted slightly due to the uncomfortable tightness growing in his trousers. Inadvertently, he moved forward and accidentally brushed himself against her thigh. She stopped her actions suddenly, as though the contact broke her out of a trance. She loosened her grip on his hand slightly and he gently pulled it back. He felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of her talented mouth around his finger. His eyes lingered on her plump lips for a moment, his eyes darting around her face. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment at her boldness but her pupils were blown wide through her long lashes. He was sure he heard himself let out a feral growl at the sight. With their closeness, he could feel every tantalising rise and fall of her chest against his own. He could feel her soft breasts brush against him teasingly. He was sure that she could feel his arousal through his trousers as he had yet to pull away, something that had only made his member harder. Throwing caution to the wind, he bent forward and captured her lips.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined and demanding against his own. The taste of the buttercream was still lingering there, sugary and sweet, but beneath it was something entirely her own. She moved her arms around his neck pulling him closer, deepening the exploration of each other's mouth. He groaned into her, more turned on than he ever remembers being. Who knew that beneath the demure, quiet exterior, Granger liked to take control? He felt her reach between them and undo his belt. He was sure that he heard the buckle thunk against her knuckles as she swung it open. She tugged his boxers and trousers down in one move. Her hands were on his hips and she moved him back slightly, before breaking the kiss. Curious, he watched as she started to lower herself to her knees. Anticipating what she was about to do, he stopped her with a feral grin just before her head was level with his hips. He was surprised at his self-control, instead hooking his hands under her arms and hauling her back to her feet. Before she could misinterpret his actions for rejection he bent his knees slightly, dragging his hands down her back to her bum and lifting to perch her on the countertop.

He traced his mouth across her cheek and underneath her ear before giving the lobe a light nibble. Her arms grasped more firmly around his broad shoulders, having used them to steady herself when he had picked her up. As he left tantalizing kisses along her neck and face, she moved one hand down his chest, loosening his tie on the way and unbuttoning the top buttons. Her soft fingers were running over his exposed skin, the other hand threading through the short hairs of his neck and head. 

With a final squeeze, he glided his hand away from her delectable arse, and around her hips to her knee. He nudged her legs apart and moved to fit himself between her now open thighs. He luxuriated in the ability to trail his fingers up the inside of her leg, pushing the skirt of her modest dress up.

“Do you know what you’ve been doing to me, Granger?” he hissed in her ear, not pausing in his path up her thigh. She just answered him with a moan. “How much I’ve fantasised about doing just this? About how many Saturdays I have gone home and stroked my long, hard cock thinking about bending you over one of those little tables in the cafe?”

“Promises, promises, Malfoy,” she said, more breathily than he thought she intended.

Accepting the challenge she laid before his very eager hands, he stopped his light touches and gentle kisses. Instead, he nipped her neck harder, sucked just a bit deeper, and swiftly moved her knickers aside to drive two fingers into her. He broke away from his attentions at her neck when he felt how wet and ready she was for him.

“Fuck,” he said, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Every time I touch myself I think of what it would feel to have your fingers buried inside my pussy instead of my own,” she whispered. “You think you don’t have an effect on me?” she moaned as he started to scissor and curl his fingers inside her already fluttering walls. He licked his lips and didn’t attempt to hold back the smirk against her neck as he continued. “I’ve wanted this for the last two years. I’ve wanted to know what it feels like to have you between my legs. Watch you lose control because of what I am doing to you.” She reached between them and took his warm, hard length in her hand and started to stroke him. Her thumb running along the slit at the head of his cock, gathering the precum. 

She matched the pace he had set and had to work hard to not get too distracted by her ministrations. He groaned. He resumed his attentions to her neck and down her collar bone, not slowing his unrelenting pace with his fingers. As she began to set her own rhythm against his fingers, he dislodged his other hand from her arse and brushed his fingers up the back of her head, tugging her hair away from the arch of her neck for his greedy lips. 

She moaned as her hand gripped the short tendrils of his hair tightly and whimpered as her other hand gripped tighter around his cock. Eventually, through his haze of lust and desperation, she turned her head so her lips were at his ear.

“Fuck me, Draco,” she sighed.

He did not need telling twice.

Bringing his hand down, he covered her small hand with his own and slowly gave a final flick of her clit before they lined himself up at her entrance. He froze for a second, eyes darting up between her half-lidded gaze and panting chest before making his decision. Deftly, he moved her knickers aside, rather than wasting a moment longer in removing them, before sheathing himself in her wet heat.

He huffed a guttural, unintelligent sound and he was almost certain that he had died and gone to heaven.

With his mouth opened wide along her shoulder, his cock thrust deeply into her perfect warmth, unable to move for a moment. However, Hermione was seemingly unsatisfied with his unintended stillness. Head still tucked into her neck, he felt as she wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her feet together and rocking her hips against his own. 

He shoved his empty hand under her dress to fill it with her plump bum under her knickers. Aiding her thrusts he pulled her closer as they continued their push and pull. His mouth recommenced its path down her neck, this time seeking to cover more skin as he laved her collarbone suckling the skin of her dainty shoulders into his mouth. He managed to pull a gasp from her precious mouth as he pulled at the top of her dress to expose one bra clad breast. 

Mind a little less clouded he managed a wandless removal of the current enemy keeping him from her neglected mounds. With a satisfied moan, he slowed his thrusts down in time with the palming of her breast and tweaking of her taut nipple. He picked up his hips driving force as he teased it into a sharp peak.

As he continued his assault on her willing pussy and puckered nipple he disjointedly came to an epiphany. Yes. This was heaven, he was sure of it.

Widening her legs just a bit more, he leaned into her, eager to have his pelvis grind down on her clit as he pummeled into her tight core. Leaving a last nip on her collarbone, he bent over further to ravish her breast with his mouth. Draco felt her shaky hands grip tight against the taut muscles of his neck, guiding him closer to her exposed nipple. 

Both hands firmly on her arse as he picked up his bruising pace, he heard the countertop begin to shake underneath them and he felt her throw her head back as her keening increased its volume. Draco knew he could never let her go as she dug her feet into the base of his spine to reduce the space between them even further. 

Flicking the tip of her nipple between his lightly clenched teeth, he began to shift the angles with which he entered her as her walls started to convulse stronger with each thrust around him. She was speaking long-forgotten languages into the small bakery as he felt sweat trickle down his neck. Her hands attempted to find purchase along his shoulders, nails certain to leave crevices that he would happily display when all was said and done, as her fluttering walls began to rob him of breath, gripping him tightly. 

Worried he would be unable to hold on much longer, he was relieved when her thrusts turned into stilted shakes as she came long and hard around his throbbing member. Running his hand back up into her hair, he released her nipple and tugging her head back up to his, sucking down the scream she had not tried to control as she spasmed around him. Feeling some of her wild curls come loose from her ponytail and the punishing kiss she was receptive of was enough for him to join her over the edge. With a final stuttering thrust, he groaned into her mouth emptying himself deep into her willing cunt. 

Breathing heavily into each other but sated, for now, she unwrapped her legs from around his waist while he drew back. Picking up his wand from beside her on the counter, he was thankful for cleansing charms as he cast one on them both. They readjusted themselves before he took a step back, hand palm up to assist her in jumping down from the counter. 

He took in her appearance. 

The hair that managed to avoid his greedy fingers looked frizzier than normal within the confines of the band, the rest lay haphazardly around her face. Her face with bruised and swollen lips that had made such sweet sounds as she took everything he gave her. Draco swelled with pride that her dress was torn from the left shoulder to the front in his quest to free at least one breast. Instead, her exposed neck and chest were covered in his marks where he had been sure to give her lots of attention. 

The sight alone made him realize how very unsated he _actually_ was. He wondered what she would look like bent over the counter being taken from behind. Would she give up control like that to him?

In an effort to set himself to rights, he straightened his tie and worked on tucking in his shirt as he surveyed the countertop around them. Icing and cupcakes littered the surface, one even ending up face down on the floor. He grimaced.

“Have you seen my bra?” Granger asked. His attention was brought back from the small death of the cupcake as she glanced around the kitchen for her missing item. Draco winced, bringing his hand up to his neck before he replied.

“I vanished it,” he said.

“Ugh, I’m still meant to make an appearance at the evening celebrations up at the castle,” she sounded irritated. “What will people think if they notice I’m not wearing a bra?”

Draco quirked an eyebrow, “Because letting the ex-Death Eater and childhood nemesis fuck you on the counter of the bakery you volunteer in is positively reserved of you.”

“You were Harry’s nemesis, not mine,” she responded automatically. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to walk into the Great Hall and announce, _I just shagged Draco Malfoy_ am I?”

“True, but I doubt your being without a bra will be the thing that gives you away. Have you seen your hair?”

She glared but stomped off to the bathroom to inspect herself just the same. He heard a frustrated growl as he set to cleaning up their mess and salvaging the cupcakes that had fallen victim to their activities. He was just finishing off when he heard the click of heels walk through the door. He picked up the box and turned to hand it to her. He nearly dropped the box.

“Thank Merlin for small mercies,” she said. “And magic. How do I look? It’s a little more risque than my usual fare but since I don’t have a bra anyway I thought why not.” 

Why not indeed. Her hair, which he had not seen lose from its high ponytail since they started working together eight years ago, was free. The curls and waves were pulled to one side, falling freely over her left shoulder. Her dress, which had boasted a modest v-neck and knee-length, was now long and sleek against her body with a decadent dip down the front. It had no pattern to it simply the same dusky pink as before. It seemed she had not added much to her makeup, just refreshed it to not look so, well, _thoroughly_ _shagged_. She had lined her eyes slightly and had put something on her cheeks to make them glow more.

“A speechless Draco Malfoy, well I must have done well,” she said, smiling. “Go freshen up then, and we’ll head up to the castle.” He frowned. “What? You think I’d let you fuck me on a kitchen counter and not take you as my date tonight? Really, Malfoy, who do you take me for? Plus, this way they’ll be too distracted by the fact that my date is - what did you call yourself - the ex-Death Eater, my childhood nemesis - to even realise that I don’t have a bra on.”

Draco found that he could not argue with that logic. Taking a step towards her he looked down at the box of cupcakes in his hand before placing it back on the countertop and pulling her closer to him. He kissed her with a slight smile on his lips before turning around and going to freshen up, thankful he always showed up in more formal wear than baking truly needed. 

.


End file.
